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Draugvan

Isn't. That. Glitters. All. Gold.
DONATING MEMBER
Posting Speed
A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week
My Usual Online Time
Four hours behind West Coast USA
Writing Levels
Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Androgynous, Primarily Prefer Male
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Primarily aggressive
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, Libertine, Medieval, Science Fiction, Drama, Psychological
Genre You DON'T Like
Romance, Yaoi, YA, Horror
#1
Princess Ternos23 Princess Ternos23
Pawn; D2 -> D4
War fires spread ominously on the horizon, spilling smoke over a burned sunset. The plumes sighed hot red like bellows into the twilight heavens. Roj hardly gave it a thought. He glanced up now and then from the rabbit hole he poked with a stick. He was too young to be given a sword - by one year and six moons. Pus. He made an unruly face.​

"Come along Roj-!" called a familiar voice.​

The call of big Harm was unmistakable.​

Roj spun around to see five mounted men crest the tufted hillock due east. Horses kicked up dust, making them hard to see. Beyond the men spewed further pillars of smoke, nearly invisible against the encroaching night. Roj didn't recognise anyone else. The strangers rode into view and continued past. Three bearded men and one greenhorn, all in autumn linens since the leaves had only turned last moon. One of the strangers spat to one side, eyeing Roj. Roj spat on the ground defiantly. Another man held back the first, who riled in protest and indignity. Roj smiled to himself.​

Harm approached Roj with a grin.​

"Get your things, you ought to be back before dark."

"I didn't find anything."

"Then take this," Harm bent down to hand Roj a leather dragonfly spinner. "Run and tell the others the forward scout is moving out tonight. But don't tell your ma I got that for you."

"Did you steal it?" Roj turned the toy over in his hands.​

"No, because I left them something as a trade," Harm said with a wink. "Now off with you!"

Roj returned Harm's grin. He ran with arms spread full horizontal like a dragonfly, zig-zagging back toward camp and the banner of the White Crane that flew above.​
 
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Princess Ternos23

Self-proclaimed Princess
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
A Few Posts A Day
My Usual Online Time
Irregular. Keep in mind Poland is in GMT +1 timezone, tho.
Writing Levels
Intermediate, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Female, Primarily Prefer Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Passive.
However, I can pick up the aggressive stance if I have an idea for a plot line - So technically both, with focus on being passive.
Favorite Genres
- Fantasy, both low and high.
- Steampunk
- Sci-fi
- Things involving war
- Romance
- Yuri
Genre You DON'T Like
- Horror, definitely.
- Modern
- Yaoi
#2
Knight; B8 -> C6
Night seemed rather quiet, only trees were whispering between each other in chill breeze. William stood on edge of the forest, observing the quiet grassland. He could see the border from here - indicated by nothing more than calm river, flowing through middle of the grassy field.

Behind him, in deeps of the woods, a faint light of campfire betrayed the position of Ranger's encampment. Tasked with keeping eye on northern border of empire, their days were passing one after another, spent on training and regular patrols across the length of river. For now, William had to deal with occasional brigands, or pack of wolves that threatened local peasants - nothing a royal ranger can't do.
Single letter, however, was about to change their monotone task.

- Sir William!
A quiet voice called out from behind the young man. One of rangers had to have a really good reason to disturb him from enjoying the silence. Soon it turned out that the reason was more than just good.


- What's the problem, soldier?


- A page has arrived in our camp, stating that she brings a message from Empress herself. She said that the case is urgent, and she can give leave it in your hands.



Withing minutes, both men were back at the camp. A young woman was feeding an apple to a horse, standing next to the main tent. Upon noticing that the Ranger approaches her way, she straightened up and took out a sealed scroll from her bag.


- I beg for forgiveness, my lord, I suppose you have important tasks to carry on with. However, words from Empress have priority above everything.
She handed the scroll to William. He broke the seal, and took a candle from the ranger from before, reading the message in dim light of the fire held by wax. His eyes widened slightly as he read. Eventually he rolled the scroll up, looking at the girl with a hint of disbelief for a longer while.


- ... Gregory, wake up the riders and send the to rest of patrols with messages. I want the full force gathered at outskirt of Vosten village before the dawn, we're leaving in the morning. And get this girl a new horse. Now.


- Aye.
Ranger replied shortly, running away from his commander. William looked again at the page.


- Wait here. I will write a response and send you back, you're obligated to move will all due haste.
And with those words, he disappeared behind the entrance of his tent.
 

Draugvan

Isn't. That. Glitters. All. Gold.
DONATING MEMBER
Posting Speed
A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week
My Usual Online Time
Four hours behind West Coast USA
Writing Levels
Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Androgynous, Primarily Prefer Male
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Primarily aggressive
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, Libertine, Medieval, Science Fiction, Drama, Psychological
Genre You DON'T Like
Romance, Yaoi, YA, Horror
#3
Pawn; H2 -> H3
Two men stood guard in the street while a merchant negotiated. Eight men had gone ahead.​

"Why do we got to escort the caravan?" Baro snorted.​

"Because you're getting paid to, fob. Where's your head?" chided Webb.​

"They don't need ten swords. And I would rather have a feather blanket."

"Well, I need an ivory cod piece, but I'm stuck with what I got. So shut yer trap."

Baro postured in defiance, but Webb wouldn't participate. Full of himself, that Webb. The old man was still a conscript, though he didn't act like it.​

Baro circled around the caravan for anything more interesting. Cool dawn light shone over puddles of piss-water and mud. Not even the poor folk were up yet. A village mutt poked its head around a nearby fence, so Baro threw a stone to frighten it. The mutt yelped fearfully and scurried away. Webb called across the caravan.​

"Don't do what I think you're doing! Leave the animals alone."

Baro scowled, but dropped the remaining rocks from his hand.​

The merchant returned before long. Pristine in layers of cotton and cedar-soled shoes. Shoes - not boots. Probably didn't work a day in his life, only talking all day. The merchant looked anxious and spoke quickly.​

"We need to get moving immediately. Pack up now. There is a trade embargo. We need the caravan over this border and across the next before one week's time."

"Hang on, hang on, I don't get what you're saying when you rush like that - " Baro started, but was cut off.​

"I said NOW. This kingdom is about to go to war."

"But I've got a daughter back home…" Baro was dumbstruck.​

Webb clapped Baro on the back.​

"Then I'll make sure you make it home."
 
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Princess Ternos23

Self-proclaimed Princess
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
A Few Posts A Day
My Usual Online Time
Irregular. Keep in mind Poland is in GMT +1 timezone, tho.
Writing Levels
Intermediate, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Female, Primarily Prefer Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Passive.
However, I can pick up the aggressive stance if I have an idea for a plot line - So technically both, with focus on being passive.
Favorite Genres
- Fantasy, both low and high.
- Steampunk
- Sci-fi
- Things involving war
- Romance
- Yuri
Genre You DON'T Like
- Horror, definitely.
- Modern
- Yaoi
#4
Pawn; D7 -> D5
Six, four, three, and.... one!

Miguel burst with laughter as the dices stopped, while his gamble partner just sat there in hopeless silence. He has lost yet again - just by one number, third time in a row! All luck has surely left him, together with his pay for past two months and a cross necklace that was, ironically, supposed to bring him luck.
Young soldier took the dices from tree trunk that they were playing on, slipping them back to the pouch on his belt, his smile not even fading for a split while. He reached out with his open hand towards other soldier, silently demanding his reward.

- Well, guess we are over now, I want that pretty bone to be in my hand already.

- I... But... It's from... - He tried to make up a sentence, his weak voice cracking down from sadness. Miguel just shook his head however, impatiently moving his finger in air.

- Come on Seth, we both know the rules. You lost, you pay!

- ... One more roll! - Seth proclaimed, reaching down to his boot. Miguel raised his eyebrow in question as he watched the desperate soldier trying to take out something in rush. Eventually he dug out a thing - one that looked really valuable, now threw down on the trunk.

- This... This is from Crimson Flowers sword... - He proclaimed, while some other person from group that was watching them nearby made a quiet whistle. The thing in question was a decorated steel hilt. Miguel picked it up, taking a look from all possible angles and sides. He didn't know if it truly belonged to a sword of Empress' guard, he never had a chance to see their weapons - nor guardsmen alone, - but carefully engraved flower of a rose on it's side was more than enough to make it worth a good coin.

- ... Fine, have your last chance. Hilt for charm, and let the dices decide who takes both. - Miguel rolled out his dices again, handing them to Seth. He grabbed onto them with his shaky hand, then gave off a louder sigh. With eyes closed, he released the dices from his hand.

. . .

- You know what, know my good heart. - Miguel tried to contain his laugh as he spoke, a pretty hard job if you were wondering. - I will only take the hilt from ya, and you can keep your, cough, "lucky charm" with you.

Three ones and a two. Seth couldn't believe his eyes, while Miguel grabbed the dices again and rolled without much hassle. He was assured of his victory, by now, and the roll just made it clear for everybody around, marking crushing twenty points. He took them again, now with hilt as well, and dropped everything into his pouch, standing up from the dirt.

- Wish you better luck next time, Seth. Or any luck at all, at this point. Perhaps your charm will do better job on battlefield, if we ever see one.
Without further ado, he walked away to find someone else to gable with, leaving Seth staring at the trunk in silence.


As it turned out later that day, "lucky" properties of Seth's charm will be put on a test rather sooner than later. Rumors started to spread among the soldiers about formal declaration of war, only to be reinforced by their commanders. Next morning, they were marching towards the border - only several miles from their original camp, with orders from the Empress herself.
 
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Draugvan

Isn't. That. Glitters. All. Gold.
DONATING MEMBER
Posting Speed
A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week
My Usual Online Time
Four hours behind West Coast USA
Writing Levels
Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Androgynous, Primarily Prefer Male
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Primarily aggressive
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, Libertine, Medieval, Science Fiction, Drama, Psychological
Genre You DON'T Like
Romance, Yaoi, YA, Horror
#5
Bishop; C1 -> G5
"A filio suo patris tui etiam focis filium.
Semita graditur virum alium.

Sicut enim magis quam patrem ejus.

The White Crane offers growth."

Vicar Goshim surveyed a dirty crowd. They filled the street. There was certainly room for growth. Goshim smiled warmly and pressed a mother of three.​

"Have you ever seen the Empress? When was the last time a scholar visited? Do you have medicine? The White Crane will help."

A finely dressed Captain drafted agreements behind Goshim. The Captain distributed writs of future payment, and in exchange armed men herded all the boys of thirteen and any able, unemployed men onto wagons. In exchange the store houses were emptied of grain and lumber.​

"Bene consideretur. You have sound judgement. If only the Empress was as thoughtful."

Goshim sniffed the orb of incense at his neck.​

Brightly clad children weaved among the crowd in a game of tag. Their cries split the air like a handpan metal drum. Their laughter sung a musical score. Brightly clad children weaved among the crowd chasing cats with sticks. Their cries split the air like a handpan metal drum. The children only laughed.​

The air was hot. Goshim stripped off his outer silk robe to stave off exhaustion, setting the scraps to one side. Folk rushed in to take advantage of his oversight. A widowed husband blessed Goshim for his generosity and pledged his smithy. An elderly wetnurse swooned in with a pitcher.​

"Dear, you're working too hard! Sit down."

Goshim took her hospitality with much thanks. She looked like his mother.​

The Captain showed the last wagon off before collecting the Vicar. The two rode the remaining horse back to a nearby camp.​

A son at his father's hearth is still a son.
A man strides a different path.
A man is more than his father.


Well considered.
 
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